Unnoticed
by Lucky Chan
Summary: Ryota tries out a plan Sakuragi cooks up...to make Ayako fall for a secret admirer, which of course, could only be himself. But as these things go, the plan backfires.


**Unnoticed**

_Author's Notes: A fic written in response to the 31 Days LJ Community theme: "Lost to the crush of anonymity." I've always wanted to write a fic for my favorite pairing in this series. (There are only a few het pairings in this fandom anyway.)_

The door opened, making only a single creak, which resounded throughout the hallway.

He flinched, automatically peering behind his shoulder, pointing his flashlight towards the dark corners of the hallway, to illuminate anyone who might have been alerted to his presence by the noise. He knew such caution was unnecessary, however, for there would surely be no one else there.

It was past midnight, and Ryota Miyagi was standing on the doorway to the second year classroom, clutching a small white envelope in his hands. His eyes scanned the classroom, his gaze falling on a single desk in the middle of the room. He quickly made his way towards it, his feet treading carefully on the marble tiles.

His flashlight suddenly flickered, and the bulb died, leaving him in complete darkness. He shook it once, flicked the switch. Nothing happened.

Perfect. Just his luck to have his flashlight die out, on a moonless night like this. Maybe doing this really was a bad idea, after all. Why did he have to take that Hanamichi's advice, anyway?

He shook the flashlight, hard, and even banged it on a table in frustration. Still nothing. He sighed, and began to make his way forward, holding onto the tables, navigating using the sense of touch alone. He already started this; better get it over as quickly as possible.

One…two…three…four. He stopped, and placed the envelope on the desk that now stood before him. He let out one shaky breath, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

So he had now left the letter on her desk, which was only the first step. Now all he had to do was sneak out of the school building, get back home, and hopefully, get some sleep. But could he ever sleep, without thinking of how this plan of Hanamichi's was certainly going to fail…?

He ran all the way to the door, savagely pushing any unpleasant thoughts aside.

* * *

"You look terrible, Ryota."

His eyes shot open, and he said automatically, still caught in a hazy dream, "Oh, Aya-chan, I was just—" only to realize that it was only Yasuda who had spoken, the corners of the young man's mouth already twitching in suppressed laughter.

"I'm fine," Ryota snapped, "Just closing my eyes for a second." He shook his head to clear it, and stood up from the bench. "So what's happening now?"

"Four on four, Miyagi," Shiozaki said. "First years versus the second years."

"All right." He stole a glance at Ayako, who was busy slapping Sakuragi on the head with her fan at the other corner of the court, and he sighed.

This was all Hanamichi's fault, but _he_ had been foolish enough to go along with the plan. It had all seemed so simple, at first, and foolproof.

"So she doesn't take you seriously, right?" Hanamichi had said a few days before, suddenly pulling Ryota aside after basketball practice. "And she never could see you in the way you want to, right?"

"Aya-chan never takes me seriously whenever I try to tell her my feelings," Ryota said miserably. "And she always laughs at the gifts I give her—every single White Day." Strictly speaking, only _one_ White Day had ever gone by since he first fell in love with her, but the memory of her laughing out loud that day still stung, and to this day it still made him want to cry in front of the whole team, manliness be damned.

"Well, I have a plan, Ryochin."

Ryota stared at Sakuragi then, a sinking feeling suddenly coming over him. The usual 'trust-me-I'm-a-genius' twinkle was in Hanamichi's eyes, and Ryota knew _that_ couldn't mean anything good.

Against all caution, however (a part of his mind was saying, "You're going to listen to _that_ idiot, when he's had even more girls refuse him than you have?"), he said, "Let's hear it, then."

The plan was merely this: to leave a mysterious letter from a secret admirer on Ayako's desk on White Day, which was celebrated a month after Valentine's Day, in which it was the men's turn to give gifts to the women. Ryota would, however, not stop at White Day, and continue giving letters for several days, never giving his identity away. Hanamichi had assured him that Ayako would fall head over heels in love with the secret admirer, and when the time was right, Ryota would tell her the truth, and they would get together, to live happily in love ever after.

There were many things that could go wrong about the plan, and Ryota worried about all of them the night before. What if Ayako became really disappointed when he admitted to her who her secret admirer was all along? What if she never talked to him again because of her disappointment? And who was to say that if she fell in love with her secret admirer, she would easily fall in love with _Ryota_ as well?

Besides, would she really fall in love with someone she did not know? Or what if she already knew that Ryota was really her secret admirer, and she would blow the whole thing off before he could give her more letters? It wasn't as if he had made a big secret of his feelings toward her, after all.

He had spent hours writing his first letter to her, even plagiarizing several lines from book of love poems his sister owned. The letter contained everything that he felt for her, starting from that first day he had seen during the first meeting of the basketball team. And when it was over, he found he could not even write her name on it—for she was always "Aya-chan" to him, but that would certainly give his identity away.

He was expecting the worst today—several repeated slaps on the head from her paper fan was probably the least of what she could have done to him. All night he tossed and turned in his bed, already hear the scathing words she would say once she saw him, or worse, the sound of her laughter, mocking his pathetic attempt; but none of those things happened.

In fact, _nothing_ happened.

He had gone to school late, having overslept. The letter was nowhere in sight when he got to school, and she did not even so much as look at him when he entered, which made him feel relieved, at first. She didn't suspect anything, as it seemed. But when the day went on, he began to feel uneasy.

He tried, without much success, to listen to the conversations she had with the other girls during lunch time, only to be caught by their class representative and hauled off back to the company of Yasuda and the others, being lectured all the while about proper behavior and conduct. He resorted to sneaking peeks at her throughout the day, but she didn't seem particularly in love, nor did she even look the least bit puzzled or intrigued about the identity of her secret admirer.

And right now, during basketball practice, the only thing she seemed to care about was motivating everyone to practice, now that Akagi, Kogure, and even Mitsui, were not there anymore, all busy with studying for university entrance exams.

"Hanamichi Sakuragi!" she was screaming now, hitting the said redhead with her fan once more. "Concentrate!"

"But Ayako," Sakuragi protested, tearing his gaze away from Haruko, who was standing beside Ayako, "I proved in the winter games that I was already a player, right? We reached the top four because of my exceptional skills! And I'm going to be the next team captain! Why do I still have to be trained away from the others?"

"Because you're getting too confident, that's why," Ayako said, shaking her head sternly. "Don't forget the basics! What happened to your jump shots? You kept missing your shots last practice."

"But to actually make another thousand jump shots? I don't need—"

"Of course you need it!" Ayako threw her hands in despair. "You can't have too much practice, if that's what you're thinking! Some team captain you'll make if you keep thinking that way!"

"Ayako-san is right, Sakuragi-kun," Haruko said, smiling at Sakuragi. "If you want some company, I can stay with you until you finish your thousand jump shots."

Ryota smirked as Sakuragi's expression instantly changed to one of suffering, to one of pure joy. His eyes met Ayako's, and she smiled, looking away as she shook her head ruefully.

Ryota stopped in his tracks, barely noticing that Kuwata had tripped over his feet as he did so. Was it only his imagination, or did Ayako just give him a meaningful glance just then?

"So Haruko," Ayako only said to Haruko, and Ryota noted a strange twinkle in her eye. "What was that about you getting a letter from a secret admirer then?"

Ryota scarcely noticed Sakuragi give a sudden yelp as he turned to gawk at the two girls, face red all over. Haruko was blushing as well, and she shook her head desperately at Ayako.

"No, not so loud, please, Ayako-san," she said. "I just found it on my desk today."

A small part of Ryota wanted to laugh out loud—so _that_ was why Sakuragi had suggested the plan to him. He wanted to carry out the plan as well with Haruko, and if it failed, well, at least there would be two of them who were foolish enough to try it.

But that was only a really small part of Ryota, for his mind was fixed on something else completely. His fists clenched unconsciously, and he kept his gaze locked on Ayako.

"I was really surprised," Haruko said, smiling shyly. "I found it really sweet."

"So you liked this secret admirer of yours?" Ayako raised an eyebrow, an action which strangely made Ryota's heart sink.

"Well…yes," Haruko said, with a small giggle.

"Oh, well," Ayako said, "But I don't think you should go liking him just yet, Haruko. Secret admirers rarely turn out to be what we imagine them to be, you know." She shrugged. "Besides," she continued, "If he really likes you, why does he have to keep his identity a secret? He's a bit cowardly, if you ask me."

Haruko only laughed at that. "Ayako-san, you worry too much. Oh, do you think it could be…? Aa, but it's impossible," she said, laughing. "Who do you think it could be?"

Ayako sighed, and patted Haruko on the shoulder. "Haruko, do you really have no idea? It could only be—Hanamichi Sakuragi!"

Sakuragi jumped guiltily, slipping on the floor and landing onto Kuwata, who was unfortunately at that moment limping toward the benches. Ayako made her way towards him and slapped him again with the fan, saying, "Why did you stop practicing? Keep shooting!"

At that moment Shiozaki stepped in front of Ryota, blocking his view, asking him what was the matter. Ryota looked at the scoreboard, and realized that the first-years were already five points ahead, despite Kuwata's recent injury.

"Sorry," he muttered. He struggled to keep playing, despite the thoughts now running through his head.

So that was why Ayako acted as if nothing happened—she thought the whole "secret admirer" thing was ridiculous. Their plan had ridiculously backfired, and Ayako _still_ did not take him seriously, whether he just be himself or hide behind another identity.

_He's a bit cowardly, if you ask me._

He let Rukawa pass by him as her words echoed in his head, which gave the first-years two more points in the lead. He did not care.

_If he really likes you, why does he have to keep his identity a secret?_

Maybe because he was desperate. _And_ stupid, just like that darned Hanamichi Sakuragi, whose fault all this was—

"Ryota!"

Her voice came cutting through his thoughts, and _slap_, down came the fan on his head.

"What's wrong with _all_ of you?" Ayako cried out in despair. "Is it just because it's White Day, or was it getting the top four in the winter games? You're all just too confident for your own good, and I will have no more of it—"

"Aya-chan," Ryota said, and he jumped up, clutching Ayako's shoulders with both hands. "I'm sorry."

"Ryota? What…?"

"I'm sorry," he said, and looked down at the floor, not daring to meet her eyes. "Please—you don't need to act as if nothing happened. _I _gave the letter to you, and it was a cowardly thing to do. I'm sorry. I should have given you a gift directly, but I was afraid you were going to laugh at me, like last year. So, to make up for it, I'm going to ask you then, directly…"

He took a deep breath, and said, his words all in a rush, "Wouldyouliketogooutwithmetonight?" He shook his head, and spoke again, more slowly this time. "Dinner. With me. My treat. Since I didn't buy you any gift today. Please, Aya-chan."

He finally dared to look up at her. Her face was unreadable, almost expressionless except for the slight upward twist of her lips.

"Concentrate on the practice first, Ryota," she only said, her arms crossing in front of her chest. "All right?"

Ryota's shoulders sagged to the earth, and he spoke in a whisper, facing defeat. "All right, Aya-chan."

"I have to make sure Sakuragi will do those thousand jump shots, too," Ayako continued, thoughtfully. "But since Haruko volunteered to stay with him, that leaves me free tonight."

Ryota looked up, the expression on his face a mixture of shock, doubt, fear, and hope all at the same time. "You mean, Aya-chan…you're…?"

"And if you want to know, Ryota," she said, raising an eyebrow, "Your gift last year really _did_ look funny. No offense meant."

"Yeah, even _we_ remember that," Shiozaki piped up, and Ryota realized, to his dismay, that the whole team was listening to their exchange. "The chocolates didn't even _look_ like her."

"Ayako-san has thick lips, but nowhere as thick as that—" contributed Kakuta, but was instantly quieted down with a painful whack of a paper fan.

And Ryota began to laugh, first softly, growing in volume until he was already doubled over, clutching his sides in pain. The whole team followed suit, laughing uncontrollably (with the exception of Rukawa, who only sighed and muttered "Do'ahou," under his breath), until Anzai-sensei announced that the practice had come to an end.

* * *

The evening air was only comfortably cool now, as spring was well on its way, and he thought capped everything off, and all was perfect. The wind lifted her hair up, and she let it hang loose as she breathed the air in deeply, also smiling.

"Thanks for wanting to come with me tonight, Aya-chan," Ryota said, still unable to wipe the big grin off his face.

Ayako only kept smiling, but she suddenly frowned, Ryota's heart began to beat faster, wondering if he had _still_ done something wrong.

"You mentioned a letter a while ago," she said. "What letter did you mean?"

* * *

Inside the locker room of the men's basketball team, three figures crouched together by the door, listening closely.

"All right, Yasuda," Shiozaki said, nodding. "All the rest have gone, except for Sakuragi, who's too busy practicing with Haruko anyway. You wanted to show us something?"

"I got this," Yasuda said, pulling a white envelope from his bag. "It was placed on top of my desk this morning. Of course, I read it, and look at what it says…"

"_Eternal will be my love for you, my dearest…_" Shiozaki's eyes widened. "Who would give you such a thing?"

"I don't know!" Yasuda said, bewildered. "It didn't say from whom it came from, either. The only thing the letter said was, '_Ask me not who I am, but know that I have loved you, ever since I first saw you on the basketball court._' I didn't even know anyone watched me on the court—it was always Rukawa, right? It's not handwritten, so I can't tell who it came from."

"So you're getting popular with the ladies too, ne, Yasuda?" Shiozaki elbowed Yasuda meaningfully, but stopped, seeing the look on Kakuta's face.

" '_Have a nice White Day, my love,_' " Kakuta quoted from the letter, frowning. "I hate to say this, but during White Day, isn't it us _men_ who give gifts to the one they love?"

It took a moment for this to sink in, after which all three shuddered, Yasuda even dropping the letter in shock.

"I _was_ wondering why this letter didn't come on Valentine's Day instead," he murmured, looking morose.

Shiozaki patted his shoulder with a slight chuckle, and said, "Better luck next year, then. Let's hope it's a _girl_ next time who gives you a letter."

Yasuda sighed, and without saying another word, threw the letter in the trash can.


End file.
